Imprisonment
by Dixie Darlin
Summary: Vanellope took in a breath of the stale air as she proceeded closer to the cell door that she had her eyes set on. She had to be brave. She had to face him again even if it scared her to her very code. She had to let him know that he hadn't won. She was a stronger person now, no longer a victim.


**Imprisonment  
**

The dimly lit hallway leading down into Fungeon would have been quieter than a grave if not for the succession of tapping footsteps descending towards one particular cell in the back of the chamber. The atmosphere was warm and stifling down here, the sugar cube walls saturating the air with its faint sweet smell, making Vanellope fight back a choke. She walked past the large secure door that led to the large windowless room in which she had been kept imprisoned on a few occasions, most recently only a couple of weeks ago.

But she wasn't going back in there; she had no need to. She was a princess now, or rather _again_. No one would lock her up and hide her from the world ever again. She wouldn't allow it.

Vanellope took in a breath of the stale air as she proceeded closer to the cell door that she had her eyes set on. She had to be brave. She had to face him again even if it scared her to her very code. She had to let him know that he hadn't won. She was a stronger person now, no longer a victim.

Due to her short stature, she was required to pull the stepladder that was left to the side of the door and park it to where she could step up on it and view inside the small cell. She instinctively reached to grab at the bars that blockaded the small window but she jerked them back down to her sides. One couldn't be too careful here; she couldn't let her guard down.

On any other day, the cell would have been basked in a faint yellow glow from the other window on the adjacent wall to the left, letting the light outside project inwards. Today, the cotton candy clouds had gathered to that side of the castle to block any ray of light, almost as if they had done it on purpose. The result was the small room being almost completely darkened. The strawberry wafer that served as a bed was currently uninhabited; a small tray of food lay half eaten just beside it along with a half-full cup of water, brought in by Sour Bill last night.

Vanellope wouldn't have known someone was there if she hadn't squinted and directed her eyes to the right hand corner of the back wall. He sat slouched over with his back against the wall, his knees bent halfway up in order for him to prop his hands on. His luminescent yellow eyes glowed faintly at her not unlike a wild animal would stare at its intruder. She could barely see him due to the sink fixture being in the way but it was him all right. She would never forget that ghastly face as it horrifically transformed from that of the faux king into..._him_.

Her stomach felt sick and she suddenly wished that she had taken Ralph or Felix's offer to go down there with her, but she had thought it best if she do this particular activity alone. She didn't want him to know that she was the least bit frightened.

"I know you're there."

Her voice sounded uncharacteristically firm and deep, scaring even herself while saying it. At first, she even wondered if she was the one to say it and not someone behind her speaking for her. A long few seconds dragged by before the recipient of her message decided to acknowledge her presence.

"What do you want, a medal for having good eyesight?" The voice was not the bubbly, cheerful one that she had heard all her life. No, it was cold and rough, full of hate and bitterness yet with a hint of sarcasm still playing at the edges. He scoffed and chuckled darkly at his own words. "A medal...ha, good one."

Vanellope felt her stomach retch and she forced herself to hold it in, glad that he could not see her knees shaking. "Glad to see you still have a sense of humor," she remarked dryly, not really glad at all.

Another chilling laugh sent a shiver down her spine. "Don't kid yourself, _princess_." He said her title as if it were poison to his lips. "I know you didn't come down here to chit-chat with ol' Turbo so spit your business out."

She felt her hairs stand on end at his acidic statement but she brushed it off. "I have no idea how you survived that little lava bath you took two weeks ago, but the fact is that you're here and I've been dealt the task of deciding what to do with you...being that this is _my_ game."

Turbo only laughed more at her assertive verbal claim on her territory which only served to irritate her. He was mocking her.

"Oooh, I'm _so_ afraid," he retorted back in a purposely high-pitched wavering voice. "The little _princess_ is going to be big and brave against the monster in her closet! How inspirational! That'll look _turbo-tastic _in the public's eyes!"

Vanellope felt her stomach twist and her throat burn as he continued to laugh at her words, trying not to let herself cry. She had to be strong now, even more than she had been before.

"You talk pretty tough for someone who's behind bars!" she snapped at him acidly. "You can make jokes about me all you want but it doesn't change that your future is in _my _hands."

Another cackle ripped from his throat and Vanellope wondered briefly if perhaps he had legitimately gone insane since their encounter in the Rainbow Tunnel; or perhaps he was insane all along and was just now starting to crack. Turbo removed his hands from his kneecaps and pressed them against the wall he was still leaned against, pushing himself up to stretch his body out from having sat so long. His eyes which seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare seemed to burn through Vanellope's soul and she shifted her gaze away from him. He smirked and sauntered his way over to his bed, bending down to pick up the remains of his last night's dinner of jellybean stew and fried candy corn. He sat on the bed, which wasn't anymore comfortable than the floor, and used his spoon to shovel some of the grub into his mouth.

"Way I see it," he said casually in between bites. "You don't have many choices in what to do with me anyway."

Vanellope glared her eyes at him. "Oh? Is that so?"

He gulped the last bite of his dinner and shoved the tray and spoon to the floor, a sharp clanging sound rattling the walls and hurting the child's ears. Turbo kicked up his legs and reclined back onto the wafer bed, crossing his legs at the feet and throwing his hands behind his head.

"Don't play ignorant," he growled lightly as he stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously gone over in your own head what all you _can_ do with me or else there wouldn't be a point in you coming down here and _gracing_ me with your presence. So quit dilly-dallying and say what you wanted to say already."

Vanellope gritted her teeth, mentally preparing herself to say out loud what she had practicing to say in her own mirror. It had almost pained her to even think the words at first but the more she had said it out loud, the easier it had become. Now that she was in front of the person that she had intended to say it to, it felt ten thousand times harder than she had ever imagined it would be.

"I forgive you."

A moment of silence led to her think that perhaps her words may have had some effect on him. She was in fact correct in this except she didn't get the response she had expected. Turbo's mouth slowly spread into a grin and he shook lightly with silent laughter until at last he burst out into gales of it. Vanellope was taken aback by this, leaning herself away from the window out of fright and confusion. Turbo wrapped his arms around his middle, turning on his side as he loudly crowed in amusement.

"You...you _forgive_ me?" Turbo wiped his eyes, staying curled up on his side. "Oh that's _rich! _Sweet little innocent child has it in her heart to forgive the big mean bully responsible for making her life a living nightmare!"

His dismissal of her statement, the one that she had worked so hard to even consider _thinking_ much less _saying _made her snap inside, her hazel eyes flashing with anger. "You ought to be grateful, you game-stealing psychopath!"

"Grateful?!" The villainous racer sat up at saying the word for himself, scooting his bottom back to where he could rest his back against the wall, his feet barely able to hang over the edge of the bed. He gazed ahead of him at the opposite wall, his face devoid of any emotion. "Grateful for _what_?"

His tone had switched back into a grave one and Vanellope was growing more unnerved every time he had a mood switch. "What do you mean, for _what?_" she mimicked him, throwing her arms out to the sides of her even though he very well couldn't see it.

"Tell me." His head slightly turned enough to look at Vanellope's face peering at him through the tiny barred window on his door. "_Why_ do you forgive me?"

The princess-president gripped the bars of the window to steady herself, her eyes nothing more than angry slits now. "_Why_? Because that's the right thing to do! I'm not a monster like _you_ are! I know what it's like to be hated and scorned, and-"

"And you thought I'd _appreciate_ the gesture?" Turbo snidely interrupted her, closing his eyes now and resting his head back against the wall. "You thought you'd cater to some hidden part of my being that is just _begging_ for someone who _understands, _to reach out and try to touch whatever shred of humanity I have left in me?" He grinned at the very idea, as if it were a glorious joke. "Is that supposed to tug at my heartstrings? Am I supposed to feel guilty for what I did because you're a _good enough_ person to forgive me?" He spat to the side of the bed and wiped his mouth. "Give me a break."

He hopped off the bed and walked slowly to the door, having to crane his head up to look at Vanellope. Seeing him so boldly come closer to her with a growing smirk on his face almost made her bolt away but she told herself he couldn't hurt her if he wanted to. He wasn't able to reach the window as he had nothing to give him a boost with, so she still towered over him by at least a foot. Nevertheless, looking into those yellow eyes that didn't seem to possess any trace of a soul behind them set on her edge, especially now that he was so close to her, the only thing separating them being the door.

"You didn't answer my question," he informed her solidly, holding his hands behind his back as he observed her. "_Why_ do you forgive me? What purpose could it possibly serve?"

The child opened her mouth to answer and...could not think of one. Her glare slowly vanished, her brows lifting up to give off a look of mild confusion, her set jaw line relaxing. Purpose?

"What did you expect to get out of forgiving me?" Turbo reiterated, taking a step back and spinning on his heel to slowly walk off. "Was it to make you feel better about yourself? Did you think-", he spoke in an exaggerated girlish voice at this part, "-'Oh, I'll just forgive him and everything will be hunky-dory and I can move on with my life because _golly gee_ I'm such a great person and everyone will love me because I can _forgive_!"

Vanellope felt her eyes water up as he endured another round of wild laughter but she kicked herself to stop. He was trying to get under her skin on purpose and she wasn't going to let him do that to her anymore.

"Or...or maybe...you thought..." Turbo turned back towards her and began mocking her voice again, waving his hands around in a random pattern. "Oh, maybe if I forgive him, he'll realize that he can trust me and then he'll _change_ and we can be _best friends_! And we can go have little picnics together and tell each other everything like best friends do! And I'll be that one special person that made him realize that he was such a fool to be so hateful all these years and that friendship is the best thing ever!"

He started laughing at his own act, bending over the tiny sink and resting his upper body on it while he caught his breath. Vanellope only further gripped the door harder, casting her eyes down.

"Shut up," she muttered quietly, though he could not hear her.

"I'll cure him!" he pressed on theatrically in his own voice now, waving his arms out like an actor on the stage. "I'll kill him with so much kindness that he won't have a choice but want to look up to me and respect me for taking out the time and effort to reform him! And everyone in the whoooole arcade will think I'm just the greatest person ever because I'm the only one that bothered to deal with him!"

Vanellope couldn't hold back anymore; she couldn't control the demanding shout that erupted from the center of her being.

"SHUT UP!" she ordered at the top of her lungs, her throat burning and her head pounding as she glowered at her long-time abuser with eyes that were steadily getting filled with tears. "I would **never** want to be your friend! I_ hate_ you! You tried to kill me! Why would anyone in their right mind ever even toy with the idea of being friends with a homicidal, selfish, delusional monster like _you_! No one would ever be able to trust you, least of all _me_!"

She stopped shouting, breathing raggedly with her shoulders steadily going up and down as she rested from her outburst, her cheeks now stained with hot tears. Turbo had become quite still standing in the middle of the cell, doing nothing but giving her a small lop-sided smile with a set of lowered eyes. A deep chuckle progressively escaped his throat to where she could hear it, causing her to cringe inwardly.

He had gotten to her; he'd gotten under her skin and he knew it. That had been the last thing she'd wanted and it happened.

"I thought as much," he finally commented, making his way back to his wafer bed and laying down once more to stare up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his chest. "You only said you forgave me because it _sounded_ nice and it would make _you_ feel better about _yourself_." He clucked his tongue at her in disapproval. "What a selfish reason to forgive another."

Vanellope's breath seethed out through her teeth and she banged at the window's bars with her fist, barely making any noise upon doing so and she hopped down from her stepladder, having had enough of her visit. Fuming, she quickly headed back down the hallway, raging thoughts going through her mind. How could she ever think to forgive that...that monster! He didn't deserve it! He wasn't even sorry! She'd been an idiot to think that anything she said to him would make a difference!

She had wasted her time coming down here. Even worse, he had made a fool out of her..._again._

_"Oh, little girl!_" she heard her prisoner sing out to her in a faux-friendly voice, prompting her to stop. "I really need to ask you something!"

"Drop dead," the girl muttered under breath, clenching her fists and taking another step forward.

"Hey, kid!" This time he was yelling in his regular voice. "Cut the suspense already. You gonna kill me or what?"

Vanellope halted, this time staying still for another moment, the silence that filled the air after he had made his unexpected inquiry almost unbearable. She told herself not to pay him attention, that he was only saying that to get to her. He was trying to lure her back so he could taunt her some more. The only thing he wanted was an audience, something the little attention-seeker couldn't have in the Fungeon.

Against her better judgment, the child turned herself back in the direction she had come from, swiftly leaping back onto the top of her stepladder to peer into the cell again. She gasped and held a hand to her heart when she saw Turbo standing once more right in front of the door smiling up at her as if he had been waiting for her this whole time.

"Scare you?" he asked lowly, the smile creeping up higher on his face.

She huffed and threw her arm back down, growing tired of his games. "What do you want?" she growled, her annoyance evident.

Turbo chuckled and backed away, going back to his bed. "Is the little princess getting testy?" He sat down and examined his fingers. "Aren't you going to answer my question? About killing me or not?"

She scoffed and pushed a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "What kind of example would I be setting if I had you killed?"

A loud sigh escaped his lips and he grabbed the edge of the bed with both hands and looked down at his boots. "I never suspected you, of all people, would be about _appearances_. After all, you were tormented for your little glitch problem for years."

"That was _your_ fault!" she insisted firmly, feeling anger rise up in her again.

"Doesn't matter. It still happened, didn't it? Anywho, I guess I can't blame you." He shrugged casually. "You probably want to look good for all your new friends. Make them think that you're blazing the trail for justice so they won't still think you're a _mistake_."

His final word rubbed her the wrong way and she gripped at the bars with her tiny hands. "I was only a 'mistake' because _you_ made me that way. And the only reason the others thought of me and treated me like they did was because of _you."_

"Oh sure, blame _me_ for their crimes." Turbo turned to look at her, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "You think you can accuse me for everything that happened to you? Ha, that would be easy to do, wouldn't it? I may have erased their memories; I may have told them that you were a trouble-making disaster that could potentially get the game unplugged. However, I did _not_ tamper with any of their core personalities nor did I ever ask them to attack you."_  
_

"You expect me to believe that load of crock?" Vanellope spat out, piercing her eyes into his. "They apologized as soon as the game reset."

"No, they apologized once they realized _what_ you are," he corrected her cockily, hopping off the bed and heading for the sink area. "I heard about your little execution joke. I thought it was kinda funny, actually." He ran the tap and stuck his fingers under it to test the temperature. "All those little brats crapping their britches because their real ruler showed up and they suddenly felt like jerks because it was their _princess_ they were being cruel to this entire time." He splashed some water into his face and wiped it off with one hand, shaking his face a little to help dry it.

Vanellope bit her lip, letting the notion soak in, then mentally slapped herself. "That's not true! You're just saying that to be a jerk, as usual!"

The false king turned off the tap and shook his hands dry. "Believe what you will. Your 'friends' aren't very nice people, regardless, or else they would have had a problem with bullying someone for simply being a wee bit different from them. And did you really think that I would tell my loyal subjects to willingly put themselves in danger by coming anywhere near a hazardous glitch? That would've struck them as suspicious, don't you think? 'Oh that glitch is dangerous but I want you to go harass her anyway!'"

The years of abuse put upon her came rushing back, all the insults and hurtful words that had been said, every injury she had ever endured. No, she couldn't think about those days anymore! They were all based on a lie, a cruel lie made up by this conceited little game thief!

"So if you're not going to kill me..."

Turbo's intrusive voice interrupted her thoughts, snapping her back to the present. Vanellope blinked and saw that he had gone back to the bed, taking off one of his boots to massage his foot.

"What do you plan on doing with me?" he finished, not bothering to look at her face to read whatever expression might have been there. "Are you really going to keep me down here, locked away like a dirty little secret, my only company being Sour Bill to bring me a tray of food whenever you might remember to tell him to do so?"

She lowered her eyes and replied dryly, "Not much different than what you did to me a few times in the past. Being stuck down here, alone with nothing to do, unable to do what you were created for. Not able to _race_. Or _win," _she added, just to rub in the fact. "You'll just be down here and be forgotten about." She allowed a smirk, believing she might have finally figured out how to knock him down a peg or two. "And for a little attention hound like you, that should be the worst thing in the world."

Her smile faltered when he instead chuckled at her words. This guy was constantly surprising her and she was growing weary of it. He put his boot back on and then went to focusing on his other foot.

"Oh but you see, I _won't_ be forgotten about," Turbo informed her confidently, almost as if he were making a _promise_ of it. "I'm already a living legend. People have been talking about me for _years_. Keeping me locked up isn't going to change that. Now _you_." He pointed at her briefly before returning to his foot massage. "You hadn't yet been acquainted with anyone when I took over. The game hadn't even finished calibrating itself when I made my move. So nobody missed you...and therefore you weren't forgotten about because no one even knew you existed."

He stretched his leg out, ignoring the intent look of animosity coming from his underage warden, before putting his boot back on and sliding off the bed again to stretch his whole body out. "Leaving me down here won't do any good. Sure, you won't have to deal with me directly if you choose not to." He started working out a few knots he had in his shoulder, rotating the joints alternatively. "However, you'll always have those nagging thoughts in your head about whether or not I'm trying to escape, or just knowing that I'm right under your feet while you sleep. Or perhaps you'll have to worry about one of your so-called friends betraying you and helping me escape."

Vanellope scowled and shook her head, trying not to let his nonsense get to her. "Your babbling isn't going to make me change my mind. You're only trying to make me doubt my own decision so I'll do whatever _you_ want me to do. Not gonna work."

He chuckled and walked back up to the door so he could stare up at her again. She wished he'd quit doing that. Why his game designers thought it would be a good idea to create a character that looked like...like _this_ was beyond her. It would forever baffle her how his players hadn't run away in fright instead of continuously coming back for more chances to play.

"You think you know what I want, eh?" he asked her with a humorous lilt in his tone. "Tell me, I'm curious. What is it that I want?"

She gulped at the dark edge he had in his last question, as if he were trying to bait her into saying something else he could either laugh about or make her feel stupid again. She held herself together and put on her brave face.

"I think you _are_ afraid of being down here alone, regardless of what you just said. You can't handle not having the spotlight on you, otherwise your little trip to _RoadBlasters_ wouldn't have happened." She paused in order to study his face, hoping for a reaction but she was not rewarded with one. "And obviously, I can't allow you to wander free, so the only other choice I would have would be to execute you.

"You want me to kill you so you won't have to suffer a lifetime of not having praise and glory thrown at your feet. To you, _that_ would be worse than death." She finished her statement by giving him a cold smile of her own. "Well, guess what, it's not happening. I'm not giving you what you want because you never let me have what I wanted. I'm denying you the same rights and privileges that you denied me. What goes around, comes around."

The random outburst of laughter was _almost _expected this time.

"Aww, how precious! You're trying to play 'therapist' with me now!" Turbo slapped his knee and then leaned up against the door with one hand, inspecting the nails on his other one. "Don't pretend you understand me, kid," he advised her, all humor gone from his voice as quickly as it had come earlier. "Really, you're doing me a favor by letting me live. At least I'll have a chance of escaping by staying down here." He cocked his head up to meet her eyes. "Not to mention, I'll forever be this lovely little reminder of your past, so you can pretend that you conquered your demons and got the best of me."

Vanellope gave him a flat look. "I _did_ get the best of you. You're the one stuck in a cell in case you haven't noticed. You _lost_."

He snorted a laugh, lowering his head once more and walking away from her. "Think that way all you want; I know the opposite is quite true." He flicked his head back briefly to give her a sly smile. "Just remember that no matter the present circumstances, you're still suffering from years of neglect and hatred. You can go ahead and live in your little fantasy that none of it really happened because it was all based on a fabrication; you can pretend that you came out of this a better person than you would have been otherwise. But the fact remains that it all still hurts, doesn't it?"

He flipped back onto the bed to rest again. "I successfully escaped death, twice now, took over another game without so much as a suspicion from anyone else, ruined your life, made mine turbo-tastic again, and got what I wanted for fifteen years. That's longer than I ever dreamed would be possible. I got my second chance and had a good run with it." He tilted his head so Vanellope could see the deadpan look on his face. "_You_ however still have to deal with the aftermath of what was done to you. Like it or not, you can't erase the last fifteen years of your life so you're going to have issues for the rest of your life, kid. Technically speaking, I _win_."

His mouth naturally lifted up into a smile upon saying "win" and it was almost enough to make Vanellope want to march in and punch him right in the face.

"You _want_ to kill me, don't you?" he chuckled darkly. "I can see it in your eyes. I'd recognize that look anywhere because it's the same look I had when I thought about how I couldn't permanently delete you thanks to your little glitch status preventing me from dragging you out of this game and ridding you once and for all. The only reason you truly _won't_ execute me is because you don't want people thinking you're a nine-year-old tyrant. Appearances, appearances."

Did she? Did she really want-

"I'm nothing like you," Vanellope replied evenly. "Conversation's over. Have fun entertaining yourself."

She hopped down and shoved the stepladder back where it was originally, quickly making her way back down the hall with no intention of turning around this time.

"Hey, kid!" Turbo called out to her right when she had her hand on the door to exit. "How does it feel knowing that the Boogey Man is living conveniently under your nose?!"

A wild scream of laughter sent chills up her spine and she quickly removed herself from the Fungeon completely, still able to hear the loud cackles from within it until she entered into her Throne Room. She never went into the Fungeon again.

* * *

Vanellope was in a trance-like state all afternoon. Not a week after her final conversation with _him_, she had received the news from Sour Bill that he had escaped his cell. He had been using warm water from the sink to soak the sugar cubes that made up the walls of the room before carving into them with the spoon provided for his meals. It had taken him some time but he had succeeded. Vanellope had asked why no one noticed it before and Sour Bill had replied that since the hole was located underneath the bed on the wall it was anchored to, that no one would have seen it unless they looked in that direction. She had said that Sour Bill was short enough to notice something like that and he only said that Turbo creeped him out so much that he only spent enough time to give him his food and promptly leave with the donut cops that accompanied him.

_"Or perhaps you'll have to worry about one of your so-called friends betraying you and helping me escape."_

She had to force herself not to remember all the maniacal things Turbo had said to her during their conversation. He had only been spouting out nonsensical garbage to get under her skin. Hadn't he?

Security was increased around the palace; search parties scattered about the land. Two guards were placed by the portal that led to Game Central Station and also near the code vault at all times. Just because he wasn't here now didn't mean he wouldn't come back and try repeating what he had done the first time he'd entered _Sugar Rush. _

And just how had he done it anyway? Vanellope had no recollection of him in her pre-glitch days. Had someone helped him? Had someone betrayed her even then and assisted him in overhauling the game and reformatting it to his liking, turning her into an outcast in the process? Had she unwittingly angered someone enough to _want_ to betray her?

Maybe he hadn't left the castle at all. Maybe the hole was just a red herring meant to make her think he had escaped. After all, she wasn't the one who had gone in to see it for herself. Sour Bill or Wynnchel or maybe Duncan might have assisted him. He could be hiding behind the walls undetected, watching her every move.

_Stop it, Schweetz. You're losing it. He's not even here and he's still playing mind games with you. He's not here in the castle and no one helped him. These people are your friends and loyal subjects now. There isn't any wild conspiracy taking place here._

That didn't stop her from going to bed at night with the light on.

* * *

Another several days went by with no sign of Turbo. Had the guards searched high and low? Yes. Had they combed every surface? Yes. He had to be hiding somewhere so they weren't looking hard enough. That had to be it. Maybe they didn't _want_ him to be found. Maybe they thought their president-princess had finally lost her rocker and was only humoring her by doing these tasks that she had ordered out. Maybe there was something about her that prevented them from taking her seriously. Maybe King Candy had been naturally better at being a leader.

What did the characters from outside _Sugar Rush_ think? How did they feel about her failure in keeping the arcade's most notorious criminal under lock and key? Maybe they all thought she was a joke as well. A nine year old in charge of a game...preposterous! Did she really think she could be in control of that psychopath? Obviously not because he escaped, didn't he?

She never went anywhere alone, always having someone accompany her whether it was another racer or one of the various NPC's. Every shadow she saw, she thought she'd see him but it would only be a trick of the light. Her nerves were on edge. On her really bad days, she would suspect that someone had poisoned her food and demand Sour Bill eat it for himself. She always felt safer after-hours when Ralph could be with her. She knew she could trust him. After all, he had risked his life to save her once before.

Months went by. She thought perhaps after this long she had nothing to worry about...but then she'd think that was exactly what he wanted her to think. He wanted to draw this out, make her let down her guard, so that he could swoop in as easily as the first time and ruin her life again. Not going to happen, buster.

She was going to keep on waiting for him; she was ready this time.

* * *

If only she had known that she had nothing to worry about. The very day he had escaped, Turbo had headed straight for Diet Cola Mountain and willingly threw himself into the boiling lava, dying instantly...forever this time. Vanellope had been right; he couldn't handle living outside the spotlight. It was worse than death in his eyes.

He had done it with a smile though. He was already a legend as it was...might as well add to it. Make everyone think he was still roaming around haunting the place. It was the ultimate scam.

He knew he'd never get back into _Sugar Rush'_s code vault, or any other game's for that matter. Not with people knowing he was alive and on the move. No point in risking capture again.

And so Vanellope would spend the rest of her days wondering when Turbo was going to make his move, all the while there weren't any more moves for him to make. In a way they had both won: he had secured his place as a permanent fixture of ghost stories and local legends; she no longer had to deal with him. Unfortunately, this also meant they both lost: he was unable to bask in the glory of being a legend and visually witness the excess destruction he had left behind; she was a prisoner of her own fear and paranoia.

If only she had known...that would have made her the clear-cut winner between the two.

* * *

_The entire part before his escape, that's my honest-to-God headcanon for what would happen IF Turbo were to regenerate (which I don't even think is possible if I must be truthful) and ended up in Vanellope's hands. No potential friendship, no trying to understand each other...just them butting heads and trying to knock the other down. An ongoing battle of the wits between mortal enemies. Nothing more, nothing less._


End file.
